Harry Potter and the Last of the Death Eaters
by ender74361
Summary: Harry continues to unravel the depths of evil even after Voldemort's death, but when the last of them are gone, what will Harry discover that changes everything that he once thought true?
1. Prologue

Prologue

Pain. Unfathomable pain. The coursing feeling of despair pulsed through his body with unmerciful consistency. The sensation gave a white hot pulse and he started to see his life. He saw his horrid existence at his Aunt and Uncle Dursley's home. Harry saw a large profile break down a door and reveal the truth about his past. The faces and situations of Harry's first friends floated across his mind. He saw the rugged face of his Godfather. A thrill of fear racked his body as he recalled the return of Lord Voldemort. He stared at his shiny new Captain's badge. Felt his stomach drop as he kissed Ginny in the euphoria of winning the Quidditch Cup. Felt disbelief as he watched Dumbledore fall over the ramparts of the Astronomy Tower. He re-experienced the elation of destroying the last Horcrux after searching for so long and the feeling of strength as his adult powers blossomed. His chest seemed heavy with the exhaustion of a duel that ended with him standing over Voldemort's dead body. He relived the happy day when Ginny Weasley wore a white dress and became Ginny Potter. He saw his greatest ambi-

"I never thought that _I _would have to do this to _you_, Harry," and there was a long pause and a sigh, "but you had to STAND IN MY WAY!"

And then the pain subsided.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Yeah, I don't think I'm finishing my other story. Maybe my romance, but the other one is kinda pointless now that HBP is out, so………… sorry. I'll finish it later when this story is done. I just had a great plot development sprout inside my head when I was finishing my re-read of HBP, so I had to write a story. I will be replying to reviews and will be happy to R&R anything that my reviewers ask me to. This story will be a lot less "seat-of-my-pants" then the last one was. I have some definite direction this time in other words- not just a beginning, an end, and a small man trying to figure out how to bridge the gap. Well, my A-N is getting longer than my prologue, so I'll leave you till next time.


	2. The Never Ending Night

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter... I freakin' wish I did, but sadly... I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Hey all, I have my own laptop now, and I know I said that frequent updates would come as soon as I got my own laptop, but I forgot to figure in the whole "homework" part of college. Anyway, on this chapter. There are a lot of surprises in this chapter, and I'm toying with some pretty outrageous ideas, so don't get mad at me for completely turning J.K's universe upside-down. I will keep things to an explainable point though. Nothing so outlandish that it is unexplainable in text. Anyway, no further ado.

Chapter 1: The never ending night

"_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!!!!"_ And the small, pathetic form of a man was rigid. "Who would ever have thought that you, Pettigrew, would have held out so long in my hunt. Granted you mostly just cowered under rocks in your altered form while the other ones were still trying to make statements with there muggle hating and demonstrations. And that combination brought you here... the third to last Death Eater caught," the young man with the jet black hair was smiling as he goaded the mouselike man. His green eyes gleamed with the knowledge that he had done a good job. "_Levicorpus."_ Harry added his twist of the wand, and it allowed him to control all of Pettigrew's movements. He merely flicked his wand with no audible sound and binding ropes appeared on the captive's hands. Harry was very good at controling all aspects of his magics now. His last year at Hogwart's was almost non-existent due to the shroud of fear that Voldemort was casting at that time, but he managed to graduate with all of his N.E.W.T.S. and shortly after, had to confront Lord Voldemort for the last time. He was accpeted into Auror school and had completed the regemin quickly and becoming a full liscensed Auror.

Harry and Pettigrew moved together down the dark alley the Auror had found the mouse in. The buildings were tall and a dark red brick that had become darker with age from the dirt, scum, and grease that the lining of dumpsters rubbed off onto them.The pair reached a point Harry thought accpeptable, and he looked into the beady eyes that had betrayed his parent with a calm hatred. A squeaky voice was being muffled, and so Harry let him speak, "I won't see a day in prison will I? You are to kill me? After all these years, Harry Potter gets his revenge. I knew this day would arrive, but please do not make me suffer. Have pity. Have pity"

"Why would I have pity on the being that so heartlessly betrayed his best friend and wife, my mother and father?" Harry's voice wavered but he continued, getting louder more to keep himelf steady than to scare Peter. "The man who so coldly framed his only other friend for his own own murder," Harry reached to Peter's hand, motioning toward his finger, " and even cut off his own finger to do it. Who in the world would have pity on that kind of 'friend'?" Pettigrew squeeled in agony and closed his eyes preparing for the blow that wound end his life.. But Harry merely shook his head and scoffed, and in one loud crack, they both dissapeared from the dark alleyway.

The Great Hall in the Ministry of Magic was empty. The quiet rush of the fountain was the only sound to be heard. A small wizard appeared out of one of the fireplaces and scurried off toward the main lift. Footsteps could be heard in the distance. As they came closer, they began to echo against the marble walls and started running together to the point where you couldn't tell when the actuall footsteps were falling. A tall black man was slowly approaching the middle of the hall. His nose was buried in a folder full of papers, and he was muttering something about "Not quite gruesome enough". A loud crack resonated through the hall, and the black man jumped, almost dropping his papers. He looked around searching for the disturbance to the peaceful setting. He saw his favorite young wizard with yet another bound figure standing in front of him, "Mr. Potter! I would, like normal, ask who it is this time that you've brought in, but even from this distance it is easy to see that you have caught Peter Pettigrew! Smashing job."

"It doesn't matter anymore," the squeaky voice interjected, "I go to prison, but without the Dementors, it will be no worse that being in hiding for the last 4 years."

"I wouldn't count on that. I have this friend, Hermione, you remember Hermione. Well she is in a new department that pushes the bounds of magic... sees what it can really do beyond current knowledge. And she is in charge of this project where they use their new discoveries to make the new Azkaban worse than the first."

"Yes," the black man chimed in with a sadistic smile wrung across his face, "I happen to have those files right here, and let me tell you, it will be no picnic." He said this and tapped the paper binder on top of Pettigrew's balding head.

"Oh, have the new batch come in, Minister? I haven't been home in a week now. I was trailing down Lestrange, and I happened to trip over this rat's tail, so I haven't been able to speak with Hermione. Hope that those are particularly... what's the word I keep hearing you use these days? Gruesome?" The Minister chuckled, "Yes, that's the one that I've been using! Well, you had better be off to process that prisoner there, and I must go immediately approve these unthinkable acts for Azkaban!" The black man chuckled softly and sped away in long strides.

Harry smiled as he walked away from Larry McGowen, the Minister of Magic. He thought back to the the first Minister he ever knew. Fudge had too many shortcomings, but Harry realized now that he still made a better Minister than Scrimageour. Maybe the brute force leadership was needed at that time, but Scrimegeour made a better general. But the need for a new Minister came just after the final battle against Voldemort when Scrimageour died at the hands of a Death Eater. The public cried to Harry, their hero, to be named Minister. No one seemed to see the insanity in this except for Harry, and all the people that were vying for the job. But Harry publicly announced that he was far too young to be Minister, and that while he was flattered, another choice would be wiser. So Larry was chosen out of the position as head of the Department of Mysteries, and so far was doing a good job with the day to day running of the Ministry. There were the normal problems with the public not feeling loyalty to him right away, but within a month, Larry had made improvements to the ministry and to the wizarding world's daily lives, so the public didn't take too long to warm up. One of the improvements the Minister made was the expansion of the Ministriy's departments which included the department that Hermione worked in now. They started testing the bounds of magic. McGowen said that this was to prevent another bad wizard from finding something out that the Ministry didn't have knowledge about. People wanted that security in knowing their Minister was trying to prevent another Voldemort.

"Eh! Mr Potter! Got another one did we?" Harry had arrived at the holding cells. "Yes Ewan, just two left now. Oh, and I'll have the paper work down to you before I leave"

"Thank you for that. Be seeing you." Harry handed over Pettigrew to the young, blonde, scruffy looking night manager of the holding cells and turned back to the lift to head to his office. This late at night, the lift ride seemed to be forever. The few lingering and flying memos from the late workers seemed to sense the feeling of eternity and matched the speed of the ride in their flight, drifting lazily on the non-existant up and down drafts. Finally, Harry arrived at his floor. He looked out over the open floor and took in the feeling of his home. The windows "outside" reflected a sunny day on a beach. They were often this way at night to keep the workers alert and focused on the last minute touches they were doing to this program or that report. Harry quickly traversed the landscape of barren cubicles with various wanted posters on them and after a minute of his mindless walk, he looked up and put his hand on the knob of his office door. He read his name on the small glass window and smiled. That sight always made him smile as he remembered his quick rise through the Auror's office. After he was offered a position as an Auror, the head of the department retired, and some very large holes needed to be filled. So the prodigy Potter got promoted rather quickly into an assistant head position on one of the Auror's office projects. "The Remaining DR's" it was called around the office, and Harry had proved to be proficient at this. So when his boss was offered an ambassador's spot in Ireland, Harry was the obvious choice to lead the project.

Harry slid into his office and waved his hands over some "Maximum Lighting" candles and the room took on birght white light. Muggles would have thought it to be flourescent lighting for sure. He lifted his arms and his cloak floated off and landed on the nearby cloak-rack. The young man sat in his chair and leaned onto his desk and sighed. His face seemed to fall in an instant and his exhaustion finally showed outwardly. His face layed down into his hands and covered his eyes completely. The man's body stayed in the same position for some time untill a tap at his door resounded through the office and Harry started. He looked up and a flying memo had tapped the glass on his door once and was now sliding through the glass as if it were liquid. The small paper plane hovered momentarily before unfolding and drifting cautiously onto the desk ready for the intended to read.

_Harry,_

_A small sampling of the Wizengamot would like to meet with you right away to hear your accounting of Pettigrew's capture. I know this is the last thing you want tonight, but Umbridge still holds that council and tight and she won't have any mistreatment of prisoners. With your history with Pettigrew, she wants to question you and make sure you didn't "abuse" that rat. I think you would've had a right to, but that's my opinion. And with your history with Umbridge, you know it won't be pleasant, but you also know it will be worse if you keep her waiting and anger her. Please get it taken care of tonight and be careful how you word it all. _

_Sincerest thanks,_

_Larry McGowen, Minister of Magic._

And exasperated sigh filled the room as Harry read the memo. One word seethed out of his lips coupled with his eyes rolling, "Umbridge" She seemed to be his only enemy anymore. Even with the whole wizarding world on his side, she refused to recognize Harry's accomplishments, even the ones that weren't Voldemort related. She constantly made everything harder for Harry than it needed to be. It made Harry want to use some fun combination of spells that were reserved for his field work, but such an act would just turn more against him. He often joked about how he prefered Voldemort as his mortal enemy because no one minded a killing curse or two aimed his way, "but when they head towards Umbridge then no!...that's unforgivable!" Once, Mrs. Weasley caught wind of the joke and made the full grown Harry Potter wash dishes without magic to think about the gravity of the joke. He did the task without complaint for Mrs. Weasly's peace of mind. His friends all thought it was hysterical minus Hermione of course. She thought such talk was to be watched at all times. Harry let a smile creep across his face before remembering the impending toture again. He sighed again and got up to make the long journey down to the Department of Mysteries. He arrived and entered the room. He could almost feel the anti-Potter energy coursing through the air. "Potter..." Harry's eyes unvoluntarily rolled into the top of his head, "Umbridge. So nice to visit the Wizengamot at 3 in the morning."

"Well with your eratic and violent history, we have to be sure Mr. Pettigrew wasn't treated too harshly."

"Death Eater Pettigrew... and I didn't kill him."

"You know there are worse things than death."

"Yes, I remember you administering them to me." Umbridge's eyes narrowed in a snap of motion. Harry chuckled, "Don't you believe me Dolores? I wouldn't tell lies." Harry outright laughed at Umbridge's seething reaction, filling the stone walled room with his mirth, "And I won't be undergoing this interview tonight."

"There you are telling the lies again Potter." Harry's laughing abated and he drew his wand. Umbridge flinched and Harry smiled but did not let his laugh escape again. He placed his wand to his head and started withdrawing a silver thread that seemed like it was straining to stay connected. He drew out a small glass vial and let the thread drop into it as it detatched form his skull, "See for yourself how I treated that rat."

"This won't suffice Potter!"

"Yes, yes it will. If you don't think it will go ask the Minister. He's still in I believe." Harry turned his back on the stuttering squat woman and walked out of the door. He felt relieved to be walking out of the main hall and out of the Department of Mysteries. "Harry!" He sighed and turned around but his exasperated look dissapeared when he saw who called out his name, "Hermione! What are you still doing here?"

"I live here as much as you do and you know that. Larry stopped by and he told me you brought in Peter. Wonderfully done."

"Well I was after Lestrange, but yeah it feels good getting Peter into your capable hands."

"And I will be sure he gets what's coming to him. It's good to see you again Harry. You know how we all hate it when you leave for so long."

"I was only gone a week this time. Not like the Goyle excapade. Even with the noticeable absence of brains it took a good part of a month to bring him in."

"Well regardless, you are back now and we _will_ have our traditional dinner tomorrow. I've already owled Ron. Look how he responded."

_Do I need to bring anything? Or... do we need to bring anything? I could manage it if we were bringing something but I don't know about on my own. You know how I am with these things. What should I wear? Heh, better yet what are you wearing? - Ron_

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes, "He never has a clue does he? How many of these dinners have we had?" Hermione laughed with him, "Too many, and hopefully few to come. Maybe by the time Lestrange and Malfoy are in he'll know what to do."

"And what are you wearing Hermione?" Harry leaned back quickly to miss the hand wizzing at him, "I' just kidding!"

"I know but you're a married man, Harry!" Harry smiled at this, "Yes I am. But I couldn't help poke some fun at you. I'm guessing he still hasn't actually asked you out yet. Even though he is being rather forward in this particular letter." Harry thought back on the history of his two best friends. They had always liked eachother but never admited it. It was obvious to both though, but their lives never came together where they could date. Always a different love interest to deal with, but now they were both single. However Ron could never seem to find the actual words that would bring them together. Instead he was constantly 'looking for the right moment' by flirting around and trying to manipulate the conversation. Harry thought it was funny to watch him try to plan out the conversations where he would ask Hermione out, but of course, Ron could never accurately predict how Hermione would react. It never went as planned which Harry found immensely entertaining "No but I think he's getting close"

"Let's hope so. I'll see you tomorrow night for sure but I have to go finish this paperwork and get home. I fully plan on sleeping tomorrow away and relax a bit."

"Sounds good for you, I agree. Don't stay here too much longer Harry. I know how you tend to try to 'catch up' on the work when you've been out. Just get home, you're probably needed there." Harry smiled and hugged his curly headed friend, "I can't promise, but I'll try." Hermione nodded and turned to walk back to her office. Harry finally left the Department of Mysteries and leaned against the wall of the lift a it took him back to his floor. He got to his office and collapsed into his chair. "So tired..." A knock on his door startled him, "Yes?" he called out. The door cracked open and a silvery haired man slipped into the office, "I just heard you brought in someone new... who was it?"

"Peter Pettigrew. Why are you always the first Auror on my team to come to my door when I bring in a new prisoner? It's always you." The man just looked at the floor and remained silent. "Is it because of your father?"

"Yes."

"You want to bring him in?"

"Yes, I want to bring him in."

"Draco... you know your record has been cleared in this government. You don't owe us this. Lucius owes us."

"I know that Potter, but I feel like I need to be the one who does it. What can I do to get a lead on him? I know you have one at least." Harry smiled. He usually let Draco's mouth be a bit harsher than anyone normal under his management because of the Slytherin's massive improvements in character. Plus there was always the old addage that old habits dying hard. Harry also allowed himself to let his tongue slip with Draco as well. It had become a bit of a game between them as they were no longer enemies. Maybe not friends, but not enemies. They were efficient co-workers however. "Do me a favor, and I promise that when that big lead on your father comes in, it will be handed to you and I will just go home and relax."

"What favor?" Draco's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry held up a roll of parchment, "This is my statement on tonights events and my week away. Take this and fill in the proper information needed for processing and take it down to Ewan. Read over it and brief the crew on what happened with Lestrange and of course Pettigrew. We need to get on Lestrange while the trail is still hot, but there wasn't anything I could do away from the desk. I'll be gone so you need to make sure everyone gets this information. Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. See you in a few days Harry." Harry's shoulders visibly fell as he finally relaxed from the weeks tension. He gathered a few things and extinguished his candles. He grabbed his cloak and slung it over his arm as he walked down to the atrium. He didn't even look around at his surroundings as he traced a route obviously trodden several times over to the approved Apparation station. With a crack Harry found himself in a small clearing of trees. The clearing had signs of nature being invaded by civilization. The smoke of industrial plants was rising on the far horizon and the sound of engines and sirens permeated the air. Harry stepped through the trees and onto a cement walkway. He had bought a house in a muggle neighborhood to build a family in. The upside was the comfortableness of it, the familiarity. The downside was he had to Apparate into that clearing every day then walk to his house for 10 minutes. He enjoyed the walk normally. He enjoyed being neighborly and stopping to chat with people grooming their lawns or children running through the sprinklers. At this time of night however Harry had no one to talk to, and if he did he wouldn't have at that moment. He just wanted to be home. As is always true when you want to pass time quickly, it slowly crawls by, but he finally arrived at the doorstep of his house. He stopped to look at the two story beige house. In that one moment he didn't care for his shower or his bed, he just inhaled the scent of his contentment and looked on with pride at what was his. _Mine._ he thought. A smile breached his face and he unlocked his door and found his way quickly up the stairs to the restroom. His shower was relaxing but he made it short as possible as his bed was calling his name loudly. He slipped on his sleep pants and quickly found his way into the covers. The bed was warm from the heat of his wife and he smiled broadly as he started to drift off to sleep. He thought back to the many times he had come back from his missions to wrap up the last of the Death Eaters and had layed in this exact position. Right as he was slipping from awareness into black, he looked over in a practiced motion and took in the full sight of his gorgeous, still, and brightly red-headed wife as his first and last image of sleep. He closed his eyes and smiled.


End file.
